A List of Reasons
by Hekate1308
Summary: There are several reasons his life hasn't been as easy as it used to be. But discovering that his ex-lover is now shagging the psychopath must be pretty high on the list. Sherlock/Sally through Anderson's eyes, Post-Reichenbach. Sequel to "Always Changing, Yet Surprisingly Solid" but no knowledge of that story necessary.


**Author's note: I couldn't help it. I know, I'm probably annoying... and most likely the first person ever to write a Sherlock/sally series/universe. But that's how it goes.**

**This is a sequel both to "No Forgiveness Necessary" and "De Mortuis Nihil Nisi Bene" (my Anderson Post-Reichenbach stories) and "How not Keep a Promise", "Of Anniversaries and Second Chances" and "Constantly Changing, Yet Surprisingly Solid" (my Sherlock/Sally Post-Reichenbach stories). You don't have to read all of that first, though.**

**And should you be new to my fics and still decide to want to try this one out after this explanation, I'm honoured.**

**I don't own anything and please review.**

The last three and a half years have not exactly been easy on him.

First of all, the Yard's favourite psychopath jumped off a building and suddenly everyone seemed to forget he was a fraud and be very very sorry for him, not to mention that it made sure the name of this most unhuman of human beings would never be forgotten.

Then, the Yard started re-investigating his old cases. Not that that was a problem for him – he was delighted Sally was the leader of the task force, and would have been even happier if he had been the one the one to do the forensics, but for some reason Sally wouldn't let him do it.

Which leads him to reason three his life has been more difficult ever since the psycho jumped. Sally doesn't want to have anything to do with him and even told him off when he referred to Sherlock Holmes as a "psycho" in front of her. As if she hadn't called him "freak" for years.  
Maybe the whole story with Sally is the one that annoys him the most: What they had was good, of course he was never going to leave his wife, but still –

Which brings him to reason number four. His wife really didn't have to leave him because his "gloating over a tragic death" was the "final straw". He would've understood it if she left him because of Sally – he wouldn't have been pleased, of course, but he would have understood it, sort of – but for not crying over the psycho? The one whose fault it is that, all of a sudden, they have to reinvestigate cold cases?

Oh, and reason number five. Turned out the psycho had been right about almost every case he solved, and he says almost because he refuses to believe that he was correct about the other cases, the ones where they had to release a convict because there was no physical evidence. He doesn't believe in solving a case just by "deducing" as Norman Bates loved to call it. There's just no way this could ever work.

There's Lestrade, who punches him one day after another one of his hearings, just because he said the truth about Sherlock Holmes. In a way, he's sorry for the man, and he can even understand him a little: It's not easy admitting you made a mistake, after all. But did he really have to punch him hard enough to cause his nose to bleed? He can still remember how his colleagues tried not to look at him.

Reason number six: The creepy posh guy with the umbrella, who'd had him kidnapped after he'd said out loud in the Yard what he thought about Sherlock Holmes, introduced himself as his brother – really, was there any normal person in that family? Or, if not normal, at least not psychopathic? – and threatened him. Of course, he'd not used words that could be called "threatening" per se – all these Holmeses were sadly too intelligent to commit their crimes in an easily detectable way – but the message had been very clear. Don't say anything against my brother ever again.  
And, judging by the way his colleagues had looked at him, both after the punch and his loudly proclaiming "Sherlock Holmes was a fraud", he'd not be able to accuse another Holmes of a crime in the foreseeable future.  
Which was why he kept silent for the next two and a half years.

Lestrade asked him to do his forensic work again, once he'd been exonerated, that is, at least. But Anderson still suspected this had more to do with the DI being kind of sorry for the punch than an admission that he had been right all along. And the other members of his team – Sally most of all – tend to ignore him. So, his old job, which is also his new job, is just another point on the list of things that have made his life difficult ever since the "Fall from Grace".

But, by now, he's used to it. So it's not that difficult anymore, really. In fact, if Sally would just want to meet him now and then, like in the old times, he thinks he'd be perfectly happy.

And then the psycho returns.

At first, he's thoroughly confused when Lestrade tells him to go to 221B Baker Street and get the forensic evidence to tie a certain Colonel Moran to the attempted murder of a certain Sherlock Holmes.

Then he gets there, sees said Sherlock Holmes, and decides the universe isn't fair at all.

At least he manages to get into the flat without anybody noticing it.

And, just like that, his life is made miserable by the presence of Sherlock Holmes at every other crime scene once again.

And not only that.

He could live with just that. No, the problem is one he never could have foreseen.

Sally and "the freak" – she still calls him that, but by now, it seems to have become a nickname, a thought he can't help but gag at – have become friends, apparently.

He doesn't know why, he doesn't know how, but it happened. She can even ask him things when he's rambling to himself, can control him in a way, and all Anderson can do is staring at her like she's gone mad.

Because she definitely has lost her mind. Being friends with Sherlock Holmes? That's just suicidal, plain and simple.

And then he sees them having coffee together, by accident of course – it's not like he went out of the Yard deliberately to see where she'd snuck off in her lunch break.

Good God, they are actually _laughing_. And Sally's _smiling_. And, if he didn't know any better, he'd think the psycho looked _happy_.

He's not jealous. Of course not. Because he _knows_ Sally Donavan, and if there's one thing he's sure of, it's that she'd never let the psycho be more than a casual acquaintance. Because that's what they are, of course, how silly of him to think otherwise. Friends? Not possible. The psycho doesn't have friends.

Which is probably the reason he feels it like a punch in the stomach when, a few months later, he sees Sally and the psycho share a certain type of smile – he knows how this smile looks on her, he used to see it turned towards himself – and him fleetingly touching her shoulder after she held up the crime scene tape for him.

He probably shouldn't react this way, but he can't help it. He storms towards her.

She looks at him with the same indifference she's shown ever since the psycho returned and he sneers, loudly enough for anyone in the proximity of several yards to here, which unfortunately includes the psycho himself, his constant companion and Lestrade, as well as most of their colleagues, "You are sleeping with _him_? I thought he was above that; figured he didn't want anything to do with _remotely_ normal human beings." Then, because Sally still looks at him that way, and he can't control himself, he adds, "But, I guess, even he needs some bed sport now and then. You were always good for _that_. Just don't come crying all over me when he comes to what little sense he has and ends it."

She _does_ wince and look hurt at that, but his satisfaction is short lived, because he hears someone take a deep breath, turns around and watches Lestrade trying to hold back the best friend of the psycho – or the other way round, it's hard to tell. In fact, it looks just like they are competing for throwing the first punch in his direction.

But then, the psycho says "John, Greg" – Greg? Dear Lord, is there anybody who doesn't like this guy now? – Let me handle this", and they relax, sort of, at least, and he strides over to Anderson.

Looks at him.

Silence reigns for a few moments.

Then he says, "Greg gave you a bloody nose, my brother reprimanded you, your wife left you. I recommend you never say anything to Sally again in regards to our relationship, if you value what little of your dignity, or happiness in life, you have left."

After that, he turns around and walks back to the body, but not before looking at Sally again, with an expression that almost asks – Sherlock Holmes unsure? He must be mistaken – if he did something good, and she just looks back at him with an adoration in his eyes that Anderson never saw there, and what passes between them is maybe the closest to say "I love you" that they'll ever get.

Because even now – everyone, especially Sally, ignores him, he has to work a room alone when Lestrade tells him to, because nobody will help him, the best friend seems to want to reach for his gun when he sees him, and the psycho still acts like he's the best there is and touches Sally's hands or shoulders occasionally, when he thinks no one's looking – Anderson is sure this cannot last.

Because it is impossible.

The psycho isn't able to sustain any form of relationship. And Sally – well, he remembers how she left him, she'll probably do the same once she realizes what Sherlock Holmes really is. She has just temporarily forgotten the truth. But Anderson won't take her back, when she comes, crying, sorry, feeling left alone. Definitely.

Because he isn't jealous.

But he will definitely admit –

There are several reasons that his life hasn't been as easy as it used to be for the last four years.

But realizing that his ex-lover is now shagging the psychopath has to be pretty high on this list. 

**Author's note: I hope you enjoyed, and please review.**


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